Enemy Gene
by RobbieO81769
Summary: Maybe this had all been a dream; a really long and terrifying nightmare that she could escape simply by opening her eyes. Everything would be back to normal. She would be back with Stan, Stan and Kyle would be best friends, and Cartman could go f*ck himse
1. Perfect Day

Wendy closed her eyes and shivered when she felt a cold gust of wind brush past her face. Maybe this had all been a dream; a really long and terrifying nightmare that she could escape simply by opening her eyes. Everything would be back to normal. She would be back with Stan, Stan and Kyle would be best friends, and Cartman…

Wendy frowned. '_Cartman…' _She seethed.

Cartman could go fuck himself.

Chapter 1

Perfect Day

*~*~* _September, fifteen months earlier *~*~*_

"Hey Kenny, nice jacket." Stan Marsh waved his friend over to the table where he was sitting with his best friend Kyle Broflovski and girlfriend of two years Wendy Testaburger.

"Thanks, it was time for a change." Kyle turned around to look at Kenny.

"Still orange though, dude?" He asked, bumping Kenny's offered fist lightly. He shrugged.

"Old habits die hard. Who'd you get for homeroom this time around?" Kyle groaned.

"Rowe." Kenny and Stan winced at the mention.

"Ugh. What an asshole." Wendy said, her voice acidic. All three boys turned to stare at her as Wendy was usually known for her intelligent and sweet demeanor. Her feelings weren't entirely unfounded however.

Tim Rowe was a tenth and eleventh grade English teacher at South Park High School who also happened to be the junior class advisor. And unfortunately for Wendy, the bitter and cynical man was the overseer and advisor to the school newspaper.

She had tried for two years to get into his good graces, working as a photographer for the newspaper. Her real desire of course, was to make editor when senior and current editor Rich Williamson graduated in the spring. Unfortunately for her, she had made a bad impression on Mr. Rowe on her first day and he had placed a cheap camera in her hands, designating her for photography. She had been doing her best for the last two years to convince him to put her on a story—even something stupid that she didn't care about like the football game—but that had only pissed him off further, and he had commented in front of the entire staff that until she produced anything of value or quality, she could keep her comments to herself and do what she was told.

Wendy took in a deep breath. That was all in the past now. She was an upper classman now and Rowe always had more respect for upperclassman. Her grades and record were flawless and she had spent all summer working on a writing portfolio to submit to him to convince him it was time that she should be moved to staff writer, or at least _somewhere_ where her writing talents weren't limited to writing lame captions for the pictures she took.

"Where the hell do you think Cartman is?" Stan asked.

"Who cares?" Kyle said, not bothering to hide his distaste for the boy.

"Well, I need to get to homeroom." Wendy said, standing up and kissing Stan on the cheek. "See you boys at lunch."

Kenny watched her glide down the hall, smiling and waving to several of her girlfriends on the way. Wendy had definitely grown into a very attractive young lady after a few awkward years in middle school. There had been several interested guys, Kenny being one himself, but Wendy only ever had eyes for Stan. They had finally made it official in freshman year and they appeared to be starting their 'happily ever after'. Being _that _small town couple suited Stan and Wendy.

"Dude, your girlfriend…" Kenny said looking back to his friends to see that they had pulled out a stack of Pokemon cards . Kenny's jaw dropped. "Are you fucking serious? How _old_ are you guys?" Kyle looked up.

"What? I found my old stash last night and Stan still had his so we were looking over them last night and…you know what? Judge all you want, I don't care."

"The bell's going to ring in like thirty seconds, literally," Kenny shook his head, turning to go to his homeroom.

Eric Cartman strolled into the front doors of South Park High right on schedule—right as the second bell rang signaling the start of homeroom.

"Gooood morning Lions, and welcome back! I hope you all had a great summer—" Cartman smirked at the sound of Clyde Donovan, the junior class president, starting the morning announcements.

"Oh hey Eric!" Cartman cocked his head to see his friend Leopold "Butters" Stotch coming out of the bathroom.

"Hey Butters," he said, not slowing down to wait for the boy.

"N..now Eric, you know I've asked all the kids to stop calling me that." Butters said. Cartman smirked.

"Oh right, you want to go by 'Leo' now. Well I've got to tell you Butters, it just doesn't suit you and I don't approve."

"And now students, if you would all stand and following me in the Pledge of Allegiance…" At that, Butters stopped where he was and placed his hand on his chest.

"W…wait, Eric where're you going?"

"To class Butters, why do you always ask such stupid questions?" Cartman said, still not stopping.

"B..but we have to recite the pledge!…I pledge allegiance, to the flag…" Cartman was spared the rest of Butters' protest as he strutted down the hall.

Ah, junior year. He was finally an upperclassman and now high school could _really_ start. Coach had just moved him up to a starter and he was going to make his name on the field this year, he could feel it. Already, just walking into school felt different. He was already getting uncertain glances from a few lingering people in the hallways and he caught the eye of one or two freshman girls.

He smiled at them smugly. He had _finally_ hit his growth spurt in the middle of last year and sprouted to an impressive 6'1. Working out for the football team added muscle and tone to his naturally large build and gave him a ferocity that the football team could be proud of. And all of the girls had certainly noticed. He no longer needed to manipulate and blackmail them into dates—he found that many of them were more than willing to sleep with him and some even found his abrasive and distant behavior a turn on (something about distant fathers….but what the hell, he would take it).

Cartman paused outside of his homeroom classroom, glaring at the name plate on the outside. _Rowe_, Cartman thought with disgust. _What an asshole. _ He pushed the door open and the class looked up to see who dare arrived late to Mr. Rowe's homeroom. But Mr. Rowe didn't look up from the newspaper he was reading behind his desk.

Cartman made his way to the back of the room and sat down in an empty seat next to Kyle. "Sup Jew?" Kyle didn't even have to look up from his book.

"Sup fatass?"

"Let me see your schedule." Without a word, Kyle slid his schedule over to Cartman's desk and he glanced it over. "Hmm, just history this time around.'

"Hmm." Kyle glanced over at Cartman's schedule. "No look, study hall." Cartman laughed.

"I don't go to that class you dumbass."

"Whatever fuck-tard. Oh dude, you have Rowe for first period? That sucks." Cartman frowned and snatched the schedule out of Kyle's hand.

"The fuck!"

"And that concludes the morning announcements. Have a great first day!"

"Balls." Cartman muttered under his breath. The bell rang seconds later and Kyle gathered his books.

"See you at lunch fatass." He said following everyone else out of the room.

Sighing, Cartman shrugged out of his jacket. He _would_ get stuck with this asshole for first period—the only class that he would have every single day. It wasn't that he minded English class, he was actually very good at it. But he'd heard about all of the bullshit that Rowe had pulled with Wendy from Stan and…

Speak of the devil.

Wendy walked into the room and set her things down in the first row before approaching Mr. Rowe's desk. Cartman didn't think twice about picking up his things and moving next to her.

"Hi Mr. Rowe, how was your summer?" Wendy asked politely. Mr. Rowe lowered the newspaper he was reading a bit to see who had dared address him.

"What do you want Testaburger?" He asked, not looking at her. Wendy swallowed, trying to convince herself to continue.

_Damn it!_ She criticized herself. She would freeze every time!

"I…um…uh…well it's about _The Herald_…" She started.

"Oh right. First meeting after school today." He said. "Guess I should have put that in the announcements. Good catch, Testaburger." Wendy beamed at his compliment and deciding that was enough progress for now, retreated to her seat. She frowned upon seeing who had decided to join her.

"What are you doing in here Cartman?" Cartman gave her an evil grin.

"Sup ho? I did not realize we were in the same English class." Wendy scoffed.

"You're obviously in the wrong place. This is AP English."

"Hmm, well it would appear I'm _exactly_ in the right place, bitch." Cartman said, looking at his schedule.

"And how did _you_ get into AP English?" He just smiled at her. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her daily planner.

The first half of the morning passed quickly but by lunch time, Wendy was already exhausted. She set all of her things down next to Stan and gave him a quick peck on the lips before diving into her food.

"Rough day?" Stan asked, sensing something was wrong.

"It just looks like it's going to be a really hard year." She said though a bite of her sandwich. "Having Rowe for first period is _really_ going to suck. I already have a project to start working on for that asshole, three chapters to read in history, and—" she took another bite of her sandwich. "I still have three classes to go, plus the _Herald_ meeting after school."

"Slow down Wendy," Kyle said with a laugh. "You sound like Cartman with all that food in your mouth." Wendy paused and turned to look at Kyle with ice in her eyes.

"Don't. _Ever_. Compare _me_ to that fat asshole." She said coldly.

"That's right _Kyle_." Cartman said setting his stuff down next to Kenny.

Wendy jumped, and for a split second felt a twinge of remorse. As revolting and annoying as Cartman was, she always tried her best not to let her anger get the best of her and usually kept these thoughts to herself.

"You just can't compare my magnificence to this pathetic hippie." Cartman concluded, diving into his food.

Then again, it _was_ Cartman.

"Shut up Cartman," Wendy and Stan said at the same time. Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Hey Stan, you up for another round?" Kyle asked, sneaking his pack of cards out of his pockets.

"Dude, seriously? Again?" Kenny asked. But Stan had already pulled his cards out.

Wendy looked at her boyfriend, hoping that he'd see her look of disappointment. This was a frequent happening at lunch. Stan would always have something to do with Kyle, whether it be studying or some bizarre new adventure and she often played second string.

"You guys are such fags, Pokemon is so gay." Cartman said loudly. The boys ignored him as per usual, but looking at Wendy, Cartman noticed a look he had never seen before.

"Well I'm gonna go eat with Bebe and the girls…" Wendy said, slowly starting to pack her lunch up. Cartman raised an eyebrow. He recognized this move. Was she…trying to get Stan's attention?

Stan didn't respond as he eagerly continued his conversation with Kyle. Cartman watched her intently and could almost see her thought process as she tried to figure out what to do next. She was so easy to read as she practically wore her emotions on her sleeve. Cartman chuckled. She just made it was too easy.

"Stan?" She said quietly. When he didn't respond again, she picked up her things and started heading for Bebe's table.

"Oh hey Wendy—" Stan finally looked up. "Where did she go?" Cartman frowned.

"She left, you dumbass." He said. He never understood how Stan could be so inattentive to his devoted girlfriend. If _he_ had a girlfriend like that… Cartman shook the thought out of his head. Steady girlfriends weren't his thing.

"Did she say anything about needing a ride after school?" Stan said, looking around hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Cartman scoffed.

"Well she has that stupid newspaper shit after school—"

"Dude just text her later, we only have like ten minutes left of lunch." Kyle interrupted, bringing Stan's attention back to the game. Cartman rolled his eyes and picked up his food.

"Fuck this. See you later, fags."


	2. Nine in the Afternoon

A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for all of the feedback so far, keep it coming

A side note about this story-all chapter titles will be song titles. Most will have something to do with the content of the chapter. I don't own South Park or patd.

Enjoy!

_Your eyes are the size of the moon_

_You could, cause you can, so you do_

_We're feelin' so good, just the way that we do… _

Chapter 2

Nine in the Afternoon

The first day of school was finally over and _ 'not a total bust either'_ Cartman thought, lighting a cigarette as he sat down on one of the picnic benches in the courtyard. He watched the flood of students separate as they exited the building; underclassman to the busses and upperclassmen to the parking lot. This was his favorite part of the day, watching freshman girls walk to the bus as he enjoyed his after school cig. On a good day, he would give a cute one or two a ride home.

He winked at a dark haired freshman who—God bless her—was wearing a black miniskirt with leggings and a form fitting blouse that revealed the perfect amount of cleavage. She caught his eye and giggled._ 'Bingo'_ He took another drag from his cigarette as he eyed her intently, daring her to approach.

But the girl seemed torn and after a few moments she shrugged, giving into her friend and following her towards the busses. Cartman nodded lightly in her direction and she blushed before turning away. He didn't mind the momentary rejection. She'd come back, they always did. Besides, he greatly enjoyed watching the sway of her curvy hips as she walked away. The girl turned around again, checking to see that he was still watching.

He grinned. She would definitely come back.

He turned his gaze to the parking lot and saw Stan and Kyle heading towards the parking lot together. It was almost laughable. How was he the only one who saw it? Marsh and Broflovski were practically holding hands they were walking so close.

"Pussies." He muttered. If they would just hurry up and suck each other's dicks already then everyone could move on with their lives, and Wendy—

Cartman frowned. _'Where the fuck are you going, dumbass?'_ He thought as Stan pulled out of the student parking lot with Kyle in the passenger seat. He groaned. Stan had forgotten about Wendy. Of course.

Cartman looked at his watch and thought for a moment. There was no football practice tonight, but he _had_ wanted to catch that special that the history channel was giving on Hitler…

"God damn it…" He sighed, grabbing his back pack and heading back into the school.

"Alright gang, I'm not here to fill your head with all of that 'Welcome back to school' bullshit, we have a paper to get out." Mr. Rowe started. "Rich, what do you have for me?"

If Stan was the all-American football star, Rich was surely the inspirational future politician who would rise from small town obscurity. Rich Williamson was the blond haired, blue eyed dream child who got whatever he wanted. He had wanted Felicia Robbins, the cheerleading captain, and he had gotten her. He had wanted to be senior class president and editor of the school newspaper. Three for three, or more likely, _ 'A thousand for a thousand…' _Wendy thought.

He was nice enough to Wendy and in fact, had very similar ambitions, but she always held a disdain for kids who got whatever they wanted without earning it. Like Cartman. Wendy closed her eyes momentarily, trying to purge her thoughts of that fat bastard.

_'Well fat is a bit of a stretch these days.' _Wendy amended. But it certainly didn't excuse his behavior. _ 'Ugh…' _It made her head hurt just thinking about it. It had been excruciating having to sit next to him in English this morning, with his snide comments disrupting her usually spot-on focus. No, she had way too much going on this semester. She could _not _afford to let Eric Cartman distract her.

"Okay, features. Who's got ideas?" Rowe was saying when she snapped herself out of her thoughts. Wendy quickly raised her hand along with a few others. "Go." Rowe said, nodding at a senior staff writer without a glance at Wendy.

"I was thinking about doing a piece on the football team, there's been a lot of hype since training this summer and depending on the outcome of this weeks' game…"

"I'll think about it." Rowe said. "Next?" And one by one, he went through everyone's suggestion, passing over Wendy as though he didn't see her. "Pathetic." He said at the last idea. "Honestly, do you kids even have any idea what it means to be a reporter?" Wendy took a deep breath. If he wasn't going to call on her, it was now or never.

"The election!" Wendy called out. The room turned to look at her, including Rowe.

"What was that?"

"Mayor McDaniels is up for reelection this year and I thought I could do a piece on that. The debate team was even discussing—" Wendy started.

"Mayor McDaniels runs unopposed every year." Rowe interrupted her, waving his hand dismissively.

"But this year—"

"You kids are going to have to do better than this!" Rowe continued, addressing the whole staff. "Nobody cares about this fluff! Astrological signs, gossip! Worthless, all of it!" He slammed his hand down on a desk for effect.

"What about Occupy South Park?" Said a voice from the back of the room. Everyone turned to see Eric Cartman leaning casually in the doorway. Wendy felt her face burning as she made eye contact with him. He winked at her. _ 'What the fuck is _he _ doing here?'_

"Excuse me?"

"The Occupy South Park movement." Cartman repeated. "Those stupid hippies from Wall Street are spreading their bullshit everywhere and now people are talking about doing that here. You haven't heard about it?"

"I can't say that I have." Rowe said with a frown.

"I guess that's no surprise. My source doesn't want it getting out that he's involved just yet. He wants to wait until they're 'more organized' or whatever."

"What's your name kid?" Wendy whirled around to look at her teacher. No way. He wasn't actually _considering _Cartman's idea, was he?

"Eric Cartman, sir." He said, stepping further into the room. Wendy glared at him. He was up to something, she just knew it. "And I would love to talk to you about joining the writing staff." He continued, looking straight at Wendy. Rowe paused for a moment, considering Cartman's proposal.

"Dismissed." He said, waving his hand and heading behind his desk. As the rest of the kids shuffled around getting their things together, Rowe looked at Cartman. "Over here, kid."

With a gloating smirk, Cartman breezed past Wendy on his way to Rowe's desk. "Guess it wasn't too hard after all." He said with a smile.

Something in Wendy snapped. This fat asshole was _not _about to waltz in here and land a features job on a whim. She slammed her notebook down and rushed past Cartman to Rowe's desk.

"Mr. Rowe, this isn't fair. I've been on staff for two years working my _ass _off trying to get a story, but you've been sticking me with taking pictures for the gossip column! Cartman doesn't care about this newspaper, he's just trying to be a dick. If anyone deserves that story, it's _me!" _Wendy got out all in one breath.

"Hey!" Cartman said. "It was _my _idea you dumb bitch!"

"Don't call me a bitch, Cartman. You know it's true! What are you even doing here? Don't you have some white supremacist meeting to lead or something?" Wendy snapped back at him.

"Shut up!" Mr. Rowe interrupted them. Wendy and Cartman stood quietly glaring at each other, waiting for his reaction. "Testaburger, you have a point." He said slowly. Wendy smiled triumphantly. "And I must say I'm impressed at the gumption you've showed. I didn't think you had it in you. However…"

Mr. Rowe looked over the kids standing in front of him. He had never seen such venomous looks passed between two colleagues and it intrigued him. He knew Wendy was a talented girl, but she was too…well, _nice _for the world of journalism. Cartman on the other hand exuded a confidence in his very stride and it was that quality that would make him successful.

"Testaburger, I'm going to give you a chance to prove yourself." He said finally. Wendy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you so much, sir! I—"

"You will write the football article and if it's any good we can talk about more stories. Cartman, start looking into the Occupy South Park movement—"

"What!" Wendy shouted.

"Sweet." Cartman said with a pointed grin in Wendy's direction.

"In the meantime," Rowe raised his voice to silence them. "Wendy, you show Cartman the basics of that camera. We may need a new photographer if your story works out." Cartman and Wendy stood in a stunned silence for a few moments.

"But—" Wendy opened her mouth to protest.

"Take it or leave it, Testaburger." Rowe challenged her, looking her straight in the eye.

Wendy felt an odd sense of pressure as Rowe looked into her eyes—something he had never done before. She looked over at Cartman who had shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and was frowning at the floor. Was it worth it? She knew he wasn't all bad at collecting and analyzing research as they'd once been on the same side of a debate, though that had been all but a fluke. And he was a solid writer at least…maybe, just maybe…

"Well?" She ventured timidly. Cartman looked up at her and Wendy saw a look on his face that she couldn't quite describe.

"Fine." He said quickly, looking away.

"Good then." Rowe said dismissively.

Without a word Cartman and Wendy turned and headed for the door. "You better not fuck this up for me, Cartman." Wendy muttered under her breath.

"We'll see, bitch."

Tim Rowe looked up from his newspaper to watch the awkward pair shuffle their way out of the room. Cartman reached the door first and pulled it open, exiting first and allowing the door to close partially behind him before Wendy reached it. She scoffed in disgust at the boy's lack of manners. Rowe just shook his head and turned back to his paperwork.

"Fuckin' kids." He muttered.

"You are _such_ an asshole, Cartman. The newspaper was _my_ thing. _Mine!_" Wendy said once she had closed Mr. Rowe's classroom door behind her.

"Hey, don't get mad at _me_ cause you were never able to come up with any interesting ideas."

"Ugh, just shut up, Cartman. I can't even talk to you right now!" Wendy said, fumbling with the objects in her purse trying to find her cell phone. She finally grasped it and attempted to pull it out of her large bag but it was entangled in her headphones and it slipped out of her hand and sent the entire clump of electronics to the ground. "ARGH GOD _DAMN_ IT!" She shouted, throwing her purse to the ground in frustration.

She turned away to catch her breath and Cartman stared in awe at her back. He hadn't seen Wendy this worked up since fourth grade. She always remained calm and composed, no matter how cruel or racist or sometimes downright _evil_ he had been. He fidgeted awkwardly for a moment before kneeling down and picking up the tangled mess.

Wendy turned around to find him replacing the battery in her phone and carefully snapping the back of the phone into place. He avoided her eyes, unsure of what to say as he handed it back to her.

"Uh…here."

"T…thanks." Wendy stammered at the sudden change in the air. She turned her phone on and scrolled through her inbox and missed calls, looking for a message from Stan, but found nothing.

Cartman and Wendy kept an awkward pace as they headed for the same exit. He also, had dug out his iPhone to avoid the tense silence.

"Hey Stan, it's me. I'm out of the meeting and I'm not seeing your car out here. Give me a call. Love you, bye." Wendy said quietly. She couldn't explain why she felt the need to say it as quietly as possible to prevent Cartman from hearing the simple message.

She flipped her phone closed and turned to see Cartman sitting on top of one of the school picnic benches, smoking a cigarette. She checked her phone again for any word from Stan. Nothing.

"Mind if I sit?" She asked. Cartman shrugged and scooted over, but she purposely sat on the lower level, setting her stuff on the ground. He smirked at her small statement. "You're not allowed to smoke on school property." She said only half sternly after a moment. Cartman let out a puff of smoke in her direction. "They're also really bad for you, you know."

"I know. They're awesome, want one?" He held the pack out to her. She shook her head.

"No thanks."

Cartman shrugged and put them back in his jacket pocket. They sat quietly on the bench, listening only to the rustle of the early fall breeze as it pushed leaves and a few pieces of trash along the nearly empty student parking lot. Wendy checked her phone every thirty seconds or so, wondering what was taking Stan so long.

Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at Cartman. He looked very relaxed as he gazed upon the empty parking lot with a serenity that she'd never seen on his face before. She was surprised to see that when he wasn't frowning or sporting his obnoxious smirk, he wasn't so unattractive.

"What, bitch?" He asked, causing her to flush slightly at being caught staring at him.

"Why are you doing this? Really?" He shrugged.

"I didn't have anything better to do today." He said, his smirk returning. She glared at him.

"You're such a dick."

"Fuck you. It worked didn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" She demanded.

"The story. Rowe gave you an assignment. You never would have gotten in his face if it hadn't been for me. He said so himself—he didn't think you had it in you, but he doesn't know you like I do."

"Oh so I suppose you think you did me a favor?"

"I guess you could say I _did _do you a favor." He said.

"Fuck you, Cartman."

"Mmm…pass. Thanks, though." He said, hopping down off of the bench. "Later, ho." He snickered as he left her fuming on the bench.

That had gone better than he thought. He had fully expected Rowe to tell him to fuck off, but no, the fucker had actually _put him on an assignment._ Here he was, now presented with multiple opportunities to fuck with Wendy. And that was just way too fun to pass up.

He tossed his backpack into the back seat of his car and slammed the door shut. He was about to get in the car when he happened to glance back to where Wendy was sitting along at the bench. She was looking over at the main road, searching for any sign of Stan's car. A few seconds later she flipped open her phone again, only to close it, disappointed.

Cartman sighed and got into his car. He stared at the empty spot in front of him for a few moments before pulling out his cell phone to text Stan. _'Hey dude, what're you up to?'_ He hit send and tossed his phone into the passenger seat, feeling stupid for even bothering. He looked over at Wendy again, then back to the empty parking space ahead of him.

"Ah fuck it, she's not my problem." He said, turning the keys in his ignition. As he put his car into gear, his phone buzzed. He reached over and flipped it open. _'Hanging out at Kyle's. What's up?'_ Cartman smirked. That asshole had completely forgotten Wendy. He was content to sit all day ignoring his girlfriend's texts and calls to hang out with his best friend. He shook his head.

_'What a dick.'_ He thought, looking back to Wendy. She looked so cold and disappointed and just…_pathetic_ sitting there waiting for him like that.

"God damn it…" He put his car in drive and pulled up in front of Wendy. "Get in, ho." He said, unlocking the door. Wendy looked at him, surprised.

"Oh, um…Stan's coming to get me."

"He texted you?" Cartman asked.

"Well no, not yet, but he said he'd—"

"Wendy, he's off with that boyfriend of his, he's not coming." He interrupted. Wendy gave him a hurt look and he almost felt sorry. "Look either way, Stan would still take a good ten minutes to get here and I'm already here so…get the fuck in and let's go home. I live on your street anyway, ya dumb ho."

"Stop calling me a ho, Cartman." He rolled his eyes.

"Fine, whatever hippie, just get in the damn car, I'm freezin' my balls off here." Wendy picked up her backpack and got into the car cautiously. "What? I'm not gonna leave you in a dumpster anywhere." She let out a small laugh, easing the tension slightly.

"Yeah, it's hard to gloat over a dead body."

"Exactly."

They rode home in silence, with Wendy still checking her phone regularly to see if Stan had at least responded to her text that he no longer needed to pick her up. Cartman cleared his throat.

"He probably had to go save his dad or something. You know what a fuck-tard Mr. Marsh can be sometimes." Wendy laughed again and Cartman felt a small warmth in the pit of his stomach that he squashed quickly.

He had gotten over his crush on Wendy Testaburger in the eighth grade, right when it was becoming clear that she and Stan were going to become a 'thing'. But every once in a while—and it was rare—he would remember what it was like to imagine her laughing with him, letting him play with her long black hair, counting on _him_ for rides home from…

No.

He wasn't going back down that path again.

"Well…thanks." Wendy said when they finally pulled into her driveway a few moments later.

"Uh…yeah, no problem." She closed the door behind her and Cartman watched her retreat to her front porch. Her black skinny jeans fit perfectly over her—

Cartman shook his head. No, no, _no._ '_Hormones.'_ He thought desperately. Yeah, that would be it. It had been a while since his last hook up and it was catching up to him now.

_'Fuck_,' He thought. _'I need to get laid.'_

Song: "Nine in the Afternoon" by Panic at the Disco


	3. Make Up Kisses

Chapter 3

Wendy couldn't say she was surprised when Stan knocked on her door the next morning.

"Wendy, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot." He said, handing her a cup of coffee as a peace offering. "I went to drop Kyle off and his mom invited me in for some food and we started playing Halo…I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make excuses. It'll never happen again, Wendy I promise. Please forgive me?"

Wendy opened the lid of the cup he had given her and sniffed. Pumpkin spice. She looked up at Stan, trying not to smile. She should be angry with him. She should slam the door in his face and tell him she wouldn't be taking his bribe this time. But God _damn_ it if she didn't find his flustered apologies too adorable.

"Stan…" She started. He didn't let her finish.

Stan leaned forward and captured her lips with his, catching her off guard. She stumbled back a little, but he caught her with ease and pulled her closer. Wendy felt dizzy, as she always did whenever Stan kissed her. She kissed him back, allowing herself to forget why she was mad at him in the first place. He loved her, and she loved him, and that was all that mattered.

Stan pulled away for a moment.

"Can you please forgive me?" He repeated, his words visible through the cold. Wendy melted.

"I love you." She said.

"I love you more." He kissed her again, softly. "I thought I could give you a lift to school." He said.

"Okay." She said, breathless. They instinctively linked hands and Stan led Wendy to his car where he opened the door for her.

"We have to pick up Kyle too, is that okay?" Stan asked, once closing his door behind him. Wendy tried not to let her disappointment show on her face.

Kyle. _Again_. It wasn't that Wendy minded Kyle, he was just…well…always around. It was very rare that Wendy and Stan went out without Kyle tagging along.

"I don't have to." Stan said quickly, noticing his girlfriend's face. "I'll text him and tell him to catch the bus or call Cartman or something—"

"No, it's okay really." Wendy said, able to force a convincing smile on her face. "Why would I mind?"

"You sure?" Stan asked, his phone still in his hand questioningly.

"Stan, it's fine." Wendy promised. "Now let's go, I need to go to the library before homeroom." Stan smiled.

"Okay."

*~*~*O*~*~*

"So what did you end up doing last night?" Kenny leaned against the lockers as Cartman shuffled through his own, looking for something.

"Huh?" He replied, distracted. "Nothing really. I was just starting some research on this…stupid thing I have to do."

"Sounds thrilling." Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Dude, you have _no_ idea." He slammed his locker shut and turned to face his friend. "I…" He trailed off when he noticed the dark haired girl he had seen yesterday headed towards them.

"Hi." She said shyly.

"Hey." Cartman replied.

"So um…I saw you watching me yesterday…" She continued after a few seconds when he didn't say anything else.

"Yeah? You lookin for an apology? Cuz I'm not…big on…" His words were lost as she stepped closer, her shy act discarded.

"I'm not big on apologies either." She whispered into his ear. Cartman felt a chill run down his spine and looked at Kenny who was giving him a thumbs up. Cartman cleared his throat, trying to find his voice.

"Oh yeah? So what _are_ you big on?" He said mentally smacking himself as he heard the words come out. She grinned.

"I guess you'll just have to find out sometime." She pulled away, leaving a small piece of paper in his hand.

"I guess so. Eric Cartman." He said, extending a hand to her. She glanced at it and laughed.

"I know who you are, Cartman." She said, walking her fingers up the center of his jacket and tapping his chin lightly with her index finger. "Maybe I'll see you around." She brushed past him. Both boys turned to watch her retreat.

"Definitely. Hey, what's your name?" Cartman called out after her. She paused and turned to face him.

"Diana Chang." She said, winking at him before heading into the crowd that was starting to form in the halls.

Cartman and Kenny stood awestruck in silence for a few seconds before Cartman finally turned around to face his friend.

"Dude, _what_ the hell? You sure all you did last night was research?" Kenny asked, punching Cartman's shoulder lightly.

"Oh my God dude…" Cartman said, looking back to her retreating figure. "Did she look Asian to you?"

"Not really. Maybe she's distantly related or something. Dude, you know that means she's gonna be a total freak right?"

"I _know_."

"You are eye-fucking the shit out of her right now, aren't you?" Kenny asked with a laugh.

"Totally." Cartman said turning back to his friend.

"Me too. You'll have to tell me how that works out."

"If I'm lucky, I might be able to get it on camera…" Cartman said excitedly.

"Get what on camera?" Kyle asked, appearing with Stan and Wendy in tow.

"Oh man, Cartman just got this chick's number and she practically pulled his pants down right here in the hall—"

"Oh please," Kyle said. "You actually expect me to believe—"

"I swear dude, I was standing right here. I saw the whole thing." Kenny protested.

"That little bitch is _aching_ for it." Cartman said. "I'm so getting laid this weekend!"

"Dude…" Stan frowned, nodding at Wendy.

"Oh I'm sorry Stan, is it getting a little too mature for your little girlfriend? Wendy, does it bother you that I'm going to be balls deep in some potentially Asian snatch this weekend?" Cartman challenged, looking into Wendy's eyes. Stan, Kyle, and Kenny groaned.

"Dude, come on—"

"You're disgusting, Cartman." Wendy said smoothly, her expression unwavering. "I can't imagine the therapy she's going need after being subjected to being smothered with excess flesh and sweat. At least she won't have an SS officer waiting for her at the end of _that_ ride. Oh wait…" Wendy paused to stare him down before turning away from them. " I'll see you boys later."

The boys watched her in a shocked silence as she disappeared into the crowd of students.

"Dude…did she just compare having sex with Cartman to the Holocaust?" Kyle asked. "I don't know how I feel about that…."

"Whatever, she's a stupid ho." Cartman sputtered. "Stan, you need to control your woman."

"Shut up, Cartman." Stan said, half-heartedly, still reeling from what his girlfriend had just said. "Let's go Kyle."

"Dude, Wendy is so intense." Kenny said, keeping pace with Cartman as they headed for their respective homerooms.

"Stupid bitch."

"Oh come on man, Wendy is _hot._ If nothing else, this morning has given me a raging semi."

"Shut up, Kenny." Cartman said, pausing outside of Rowe's door. "Did you need a ride this afternoon?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." Kenny said.

"Too bad, I have football after school." Kenny laughed.

"Fuck you, man."

*~*~*O*~*~*

Wendy successfully ignored a slightly subdued Cartman throughout first period and greatly looked forward to the rest of her day without him. She ate with Bebe and her girlfriends, avoiding the boys at lunchtime and was in a very good mood by the time she got to her last class of the day—chemistry.

Unfortunately, her good luck ran out and she groaned audibly upon seeing Cartman sitting in the classroom already. She sat down next to Bebe in the back of class, hoping he didn't see her before the bell rang. She shuffled through the notes she had already gathered on the football team—many of them thanks to Bebe.

"I'm so glad you're going to be my lab partner, Wendy." Bebe said. "I'm _awful_ at chemistry."

"Science isn't my forte either." Wendy reminded her as the bell rang.

"Alright everyone, settle down." The teacher said, raising her voice above the chatter. "Welcome to chemistry. I'm going to pass this bowl around, please pull a name out and that person will become your assigned lab partner for the year."

"Oh no!" Bebe groaned with half of the class. "What if I get paired with somebody awful! I can't afford to fail this class Wendy, I can't!"

"Don't worry about it, we can still study together." Wendy said, feeling somewhat relieved. She loved Bebe, but she was a _terrible_ lab partner.

"Once you have the name of your partner, go ahead and move your stuff. I'll be passing out the worksheets for today…" Wendy sighed and closed her notebook, preparing to move.

In the front of the classroom, Cartman reached his hand in the bow and pulled out a thin strip of paper. He unfolded it and stared at the name written on it for a moment before lifting his head and turning around to face the back of the room. He looked right at Wendy and his familiar obnoxious smirk crept across his face.

Oh.

Shit.

"Fuck. Me." Wendy cursed under her breath as Cartman gathered his books and headed towards the back of the room.

"What? Oh…" Bebe said upon seeing the intense glaring contest Wendy and Cartman were having from across the room. "Oh bad luck girl." She picked up her things and stepped out of the way as Cartman plopped down next to Wendy in her spot.

"What d'ya know? You get the pleasure of my company twice in one day." Cartman said, pushing against Wendy's arm with his own.

"Don't touch me, Cartman." Wendy said, squeezing her pen a little tighter.

"Oh pull your thong outta your ass Testaburger." He replied lightheartedly. Wendy flushed a deep red.

"What! Why…you…I…" Infuriated by her inability to form her thoughts into coherent words, Wendy turned away from Cartman and opened her planner.

Cartman sat quietly watching her for a moment, chuckling at her struggle to organize her loose papers while she shuffled through her planner. "Do you?" He ventured.

"Do I what, Cartman?" Wendy snapped.

"Wear thongs?"

"Cartman!" She shrieked, causing a few students to turn and stare. "That question," She continued her voice close to a whisper. "is _highly_ inappropriate." Cartman laughed.

"So yes, then." He concluded. "Not surprising though. I always thought Stan was an ass man." Wendy glared at Cartman. "I'm an ass man, myself." He continued. "Bebe really does it for me, it's true. Something about those cheerleading panties…"

"You're a pig." Was all Wendy could get out, her voice filled with disgust. Cartman shrugged.

"Some chicks dig it." Wendy scoffed and turned back to her papers. She glanced over the handout she had just received.

"The fuck is a mole?" Cartman asked, looking over his copy as well.

"Dunno." Wendy said shortly.

"Alright guys let's get seated, we have a lot of things to cover today. If you'll open to the second page of your syllabus which you should have found at your desk when you walked in—" The teacher started class again, causing the chatter to die down.

"So when are we gonna do this thing?" Cartman whispered to Wendy.

"To what thing would you be referring?"

"You know, show me how to use the stupid camera or whatever." Wendy looked at him.

"You're actually planning to do that?" Cartman looked confused.

"Uh…yeah."

"You're not just doing it to fuck with me?"

"Oh no, I totally am. And it's going to be _so_ much fun."

"Ugh." Wendy groaned and turned away from him again. This time she leaned over, digging through her backpack for something. Cartman was completely caught off guard when out of the corner of his eye he noticed the top of a purple thong peeking out from her jeans.

The smirk was wiped completely off of his face as he turned his head to look. Wendy's shirt was hiked up only a little, but he could still see the tiny indent in the small of her back right above…

"Here, asshole. Teach yourself." Wendy turned back suddenly, setting her camera on his desk.

Cartman didn't say anything , but kept his eyes glued to the camera, trying to erase what he had just seen. Wendy was _Stan's_ girlfriend, and if he ever found out…No, that wasn't it. _'Fuck that fudge packer…'_ Cartman thought. No, he needed to avoid Wendy for his _own_ good.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small piece of paper that Diana had given him with her number. He smiled and resigned himself to thinking of all of the things he was planning to do to her for the rest of class. Having found a satisfactory distraction, class was over in no time and Cartman found himself snapped back to reality when the final bell rang.

"Oh shit." He looked over at Wendy who was quickly packing up.

"Don't break my camera, fatass." She said.

"I won't bitch." He replied, watching her walk away. He shook his head and picked up his books, following the crowd out.

He was extremely put out to find that Wendy was headed in the direction of his locker and silently cursed himself as his eyes stayed glued to her figure, even after she found Stan by the door of his last class. She easily slid into his arms and kissed him eagerly. He was only able to look away when the couple linked their fingers and sauntered down the hall.

Cartman slammed his locker shut and punched the door, leaving a small dent. God _damn_ it.

Thank God for football practice this afternoon. _'I _really _need to hit something…'_

*~*~*O*~*~*

Song: "Make up kisses" By John Powell from the P.S. I Love You soundtrack. The whole soundtrack really would serve as a background for this chapter :)


	4. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

_Welcome to your life, there's no turning back_

_Even while we sleep_

_We will find you acting on your best behavior_

_Turn your back on Mother Nature_

_Everybody wants to rule the world_

Chapter 4

Wendy groaned when she looked at her clock and saw that it had only been twenty minutes since she had last looked. Why couldn't she focus on her reading? Then again, chemistry wasn't exactly the most enthralling read… She sighed and closed her textbook, resolving to find the motivation to finish it later.

She headed downstairs, deciding to have a snack and get started on a draft of the football article.

"Wendy, look who showed up to surprise you!"

"Stan?" Wendy felt her jaw open slightly when she saw Stan standing in the living room with a small bouquet of flowers.

"Um, hey Wendy…" Stan said, shifting uncomfortably as Mrs. Testaburger beamed at the young couple.

Mrs. Testaburger loved Stan and couldn't be more thrilled that her daughter had managed to snag one of the best South Park had to offer. That he was quarterback and captain of the football team only heightened his status in her mind and she assumed—like everyone else in South Park—that he would one day be her son-in-law.

"I'll just be in the kitchen." She said cheerily, flashing Wendy a wide grin as she walked past.

"Sorry about that." Wendy said, shaking her head.

"You don't have to apologize for your mom, she's sweet." Stan handed her the flowers. "These are for you."

"They're beautiful!" Wendy said, sniffing them. "You really didn't have to do this. I already forgave you." Stan hugged her and kissed her forehead.

"Yeah, but now I have to make it up to you. What are you doing right now?"

"Ugh, trying to do my homework, but I'm having a hard time focusing. I was gonna get a snack, would you like something?"

"No actually, I thought we could go out." Stan said, reaching for her hand.

"Now? But it's getting late—" Stan laughed.

"Wendy it's only five-thirty."

"Well yeah but I have all this homework to do…"

"So do it when you get back." He leaned in and kissed her ear softly. "Come on, I just want to spend some time with you…" He took her face in his hands and kissed her lips. "I'll have you back by eleven, I promise."

"Ten." Wendy bartered, kissing him again. Stan chuckled.

"Overachiever." He teased.

"Jock." She shoved him away slightly. "Let me just go grab my purse and I'll be right back."

*~*~*O*~*~*

"I told you Kenny, waste of money." Cartman told his friend as they exited the movie theater.

"Oh how would you know? You spent the whole movie on your phone." Kenny argued.

"Dude, wouldn't you?" Cartman said, pulling his phone out. "Look at the shit this bitch has been texting me!" He thrust the phone into his friend's face. Kenny's jaw opened slightly as he processed what he was reading.

"Wait…what?" He asked when Cartman pulled the phone away. "What the hell did you say to her to elicit _that_ response?" Cartman chuckled.

"I'm just good like that."

"Dude, you are so lucky. This shit never happens to me." Kenny's slightly bitter tone wasn't lost on Cartman.

"I don't know though. It should always be a warning sign when a bitch is this bold." Kenny laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cartman shrugged.

"Bitches be crazy and you never know what to expect with them. And I like to be in control. Besides, who better to recognize sociopathic qualities?" Kenny laughed.

"Sometimes dude, you really surprise me."

"Whatever, man. Let's get some food, I'm fucking starving."

The boys started off towards Mel's, the popular diner that served as the common food and hang out spot for South Park's high school students. It was conveniently located in the center of town and was only a five to ten minute walk from anywhere. As it was only two blocks from the movie theatre, it was one of Cartman's favorite places.

"So you gonna tell me what that camera's about?" Kenny asked, once they were seated.

"What?"

"The camera in your car. When did you get it? Cuz I thought we agreed that trying to get a picture of Bebe—"

"No that's Wendy's stupid camera." Cartman interrupted him. Kenny raised an eyebrow.

"Wendy's camera?"

"Yeah, this…thing I'm doing for the school paper…" Cartman mumbled, picking up his menu and studying it intently.

"Cartman." Kenny shook his head. "I thought we were through this." Cartman slammed the menu down on the table.

"What dude? I'm just doing it to prove it's not that hard to get something published in the shitty school newspaper. She's been whining over that for two years and I'm tired of her bitching."

"Do you even know how stupid that sounds?"

"Whatever, man. Fuck you." Cartman said, picking the menu back up.

"Hey guys, I thought I saw you walking in." Stan said sliding into the booth next to Kenny. "I'd recognize this tacky orange shit anywhere."

"Fuck you, Stan." Kenny said, punching his friend on the shoulder.

"What are you guys up to?"

"Just got out of a movie and fatass needed a snack."

"Shut the fuck up Kenny." Cartman said, not looking up from the menu.

"What about you?" Kenny asked. "Where's Kyle?"

"Oh, actually—"

"Hey Kenny…Cartman." Wendy said pointedly as she leaned against the booth by Stan.

"Hey Wendy." Kenny said with a genuine smile. "Out on a school night?" He teased.

"I was abducted."

"That's right." Stan stood up and pulled his girlfriend in for a hug. "We're trying out spontaneous and romantic tonight, aren't we?" He kissed her cheek.

"You are so corny." Wendy said with a laugh.

'_Got that right.'_ Cartman thought, his eyes glued to the menu.

"Well I'm gonna go pay the check, I'll be back in a sec." Stan said, leaving the three of them.

"Damn, this is awkward timing." Kenny said as he slid out of the booth. Cartman finally looked up from his menu to give his friend a murderous glare. "No dude, really, I have to piss. If the waitress comes, get me a coke?"

"Asshole." Kenny just laughed and headed towards the bathroom, leaving Cartman and Wendy awkwardly avoiding looking at one another.

"Did you break my camera yet?" Cartman smiled.

"Not yet." Wendy rolled her eyes. The awkward silence returned and Cartman mentally cursed himself for having nothing, not even a simple insult, to keep the conversation going.

"I'm gonna go wait for Stan in the car." Wendy said after another minute. "Bye."

"Bye…" Cartman muttered, shaking his head. "You are _such_ an asshole." He told Kenny when he came back a few minutes later.

"What? What happened?...What did you do?" Kenny asked in a warning tone.

"Nothing!" Cartman protested.

"Seriously dude, stop fucking around with me. Do you like Wendy again?"

"What? No, absolutely not."

"Eric, I'm serious." Kenny said, eyeing his friend.

"Kenny, I'm seriously." Cartman replied, staring the boy in the eyes. "I do _not_ have feelings for Wendy." Kenny cracked a smile at his reference to his childhood vernacular.

"Okay, just making sure. We both know how you get when you don't get what you want…"

*~*~*O*~*~*

For whatever reason, the next morning saw Cartman in a foul mood. He sat through first period with an unmotivated frown and didn't say a word to anyone, not even to piss off Wendy. For her part, Wendy ignored him, fully expecting the comments to start at any moment. When the bell rang she was one of the first students out of the door.

"Cartman." He turned his head and frowned as he made his way to Rowe's desk.

"Where were you yesterday, Mr. Cartman?" He asked.

What?" Cartman blurted out, confused. Mr. Rowe's eyes narrowed at the boy's tone.

"I expect all of my staff members to be at every meeting—it's not a suggestion. Being as you're not technically a member of the staff, that's not a very good impression to make, is it?

"But I had football practice til—"

"Is it?" Rowe asked again.

"No."

"I expect it won't happen again." Cartman shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced toward the door. "Here." Rowe handed Cartman a small stack of papers.

"What's this?"

"A rough draft of Miss Testaburger's football article. I find it…lacking."

"Yeah? It doesn't surprise me that hippie feminist doesn't know shit about football." If Rowe had any objections to what Cartman had just said, it didn't show.

"I want you to work with her on it. It could use the perspective of a football player." Cartman smiled.

"Mr. Rowe, if you please, sir." Rowe crossed his arms over his chest, mentally preparing himself for whatever bullshit was about to come out of this kid's mouth. "You may have noticed that the relationship between Wendy and myself is not so good. She's the loud-mouthed super annoying girlfriend of your friend that you have to put up with until he comes out of the closet." The corners of Mr. Rowe's mouth twitched slightly.

"Let me put it another way Mr. Cartman, if you do not help Miss Testaburger with the article, I can promise you it won't be run. Now get out of my classroom."

Cartman took the papers from Rowe and headed for his next class, glancing over the first paragraph. _'This promise of this Friday's upcoming game has the school in an uproar…'_ The article began. He skimmed the rest, smirking. It was very clear that Wendy knew very little about football and cared even less. She had even added an uninspired quote from Stan about teamwork.

"Pathetic." He said, sitting down at his desk. _'It's like she doesn't even know how to tell a story…_'

"Hey Eric, what d'ya have there?" Butters said, sliding into his desk next to Cartman. He gasped. "Did you finish the paper already? Geeze, I haven't even started. You're such a go-getter, Eric—"

"Butters, shut up." Cartman said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to avoid the headache he would surely get.

"Leo."

"What's that?"

"_Leo._" Butters repeated. "I asked you to call me _Leo_." Cartman laughed.

"Whatever. It's not our paper, I'm working on this thing with Wendy for the newspaper."

"Oh, the football article?" Butters asked as he started unpacking his supplies for class. "Didn't she already finish it?"

"I certainly hope not." Cartman said, flipping to the next page in the small stack in his hands.

"Well wait a minute, why would you be helping Wendy with the newspaper article?"

"I'm…doing some...consultant work for the newspaper. And she needs my help."

"Consultant work? I didn't know you could do that…" Butters was thankfully cut off the by the bell signaling the beginning of second period.

*~*~*O*~*~*

Wendy hummed absent mindedly as she shuffled through her papers. "History notes…chemistry homework…" She mumbled, mentally checking each item off of a checklist. Wendy would never admit it to anyone, but she secretly loved the lunches she took by herself in the library to do homework. She would put in her headphones and completely zone out. In fact she didn't even notice when Cartman came up behind her with a sinister smile.

He placed his large hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump and fall out of her seat.

"Son of a—Cartman! What are you doing here?" She yelled angrily, pulling her headphones out of her ears. She felt her temperature rise further when Cartman's only response as he took one of the earbuds in his other hand, was to put a finger to his lips and sush her. He put the earbud into his ear for a moment and smiled.

"Gaga? Really, Wendy?" Wendy frowned.

"Lady Gaga happens to stand for something. Excuse me for respecting that." Cartman laughed.

"How on earth can you listen to that transvestite hippie weirdo? Every song sounds exactly like I would hear it at an anime convention. Have you ever been to one of those raves, Wendy? It changes you." Wendy rolled her eyes.

"So what was this I hear about you telling Butters that we're working on a story together?"

"Oh yes, _that_." Cartman cleared his throat. "I'm a really good friend of Stan's, Wendy. And what matters to him, matters to me." Wendy crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh really?"

"Why, yes of course. So, I am giving you this unique opportunity Wendy. I am giving you the chance to get an 'inside scoop'."

"And what does that mean exactly?"

"Wendy, I'll be frank. Your article lacks a certain…well, no, it just sucks. And Rowe has asked me to offer you my help." Wendy stared at Cartman for a moment, her mouth slightly agape with shock.

"No thanks."

"Let me put it another way. We both have to write this article, or I win." Cartman said, looking her straight in the eye. "You have to teach me about this fucking camera anyway, so two for one." Wendy stared back, looking for any sign that would give away his trick. He seemed sincere enough, and though everything she had ever experienced with Cartman gave her no reason to trust or even like him, something Butters had said nagged at a smaller part of her conscience.

Wendy and Butters had forged a friendship after the Marjorine incident and remained close throughout middle school. She never understood how her mild-mannered friend would continuously choose to hang out with Eric Cartman, but he would always shrug and say "Eric's not as bad as everyone thinks, and besides, he needs me."

Wendy had puzzled over this one for a while. What could Butters possibly see in _Eric Cartman_ that wasn't as bad as everyone saw. She'd seen firsthand what the foul mouthed teenager was capable of when at his absolute worst. But to this day, Butters defended his friend, even today when he had come to see her about joining the paper.

"Eric's not the same spiteful asshole he used to be Wendy," Butters had said. Wendy laughed.

"Oh please Leo, Cartman will always be an asshole."

"I'm not denying he's still an asshole." Butters agreed. "Some things never change, but I can promise you he's not just doing this to piss you off. He doesn't waste time messing around with things that he doesn't care about." Wendy raised an eyebrow. "Well…not _much_ time. A minor inconvenience, sure, but a daily change in his schedule? No." Wendy sighed.

"Wendy?" She blinked, realizing that she was still staring at Cartman. She looked away quickly. "You okay? For a minute you were looking a little spacey there…"

"I'm fine." '_Work with Cartman…'_ It was impossible. This was past showing him how to press a few buttons, this was actual collaboration.

She looked back at her childhood enemy. Could she force herself to like him enough to make it work? No…not _like._ She didn't have to _like_ Eric Cartman.

"Respect." She said.

"Excuse me?"

"If we're going to make this work, we need to set some ground rules and respect each other." Cartman frowned slightly.

"Meaning…?"

"You have to stop calling me bitch. And hoe. And anything else. You will respect my ideas and I will respect yours. We are working _together._" Cartman cracked a smile.

"Now you're just taking all the fun out of it." He said. "But fine. Meet me in front of the locker rooms at 6:30 tomorrow night."


	5. The Look

Chapter 5

_You're up, and you'll get down, you're never running from this town_

_And to think you said you'll never get anything better than this_

_Cause you're going round in circles, and everyone knows you're troubled._

_This town is the oldest friend of mine…_

"I'm NOT going through this with you again Gerald!" Kyle Broflovski winced as his mother's piercing voice floated through the crack in his door as his parents brought their fight upstairs. He got up from his desk and closed the door all the way, locking it for good measure.

"Then DON'T! I would_ love_ to have a moment of silence in my own damn house!" His father shouted back.

Kyle sat as his desk, staring at the wall in front of him and listening to his parents yell at each other. He sighed and pulled his headphones out of his pocket, stuffing them into his ears violently trying to block out the noise. Satisfied with his song choice, he flipped open his calculus book and started to read. It was only a few minutes before he tugged the headphones out of his ears and tossed them on his bed.

"God _damn_ it!" He slammed his fist on his desk and threw his calculus book to the floor.

It was never ending these days. His mom had something new to bitch about every day that just led to the same argument about how distant his father was being. They would scream at each other for an hour or two before—

"Kyle!" The door slammed as his father attempted to force it open from the other side. "Why is your door locked? Open it right now!" Kyle groaned, knowing what was coming the moment he opened the door.

"Where is your college application?" Gerald demanded, looking around the room.

"I'm still working on it." Kyle said, sitting down on his bed and wrapping his headphones neatly around his iPod.

"Don't you walk away from me!" Sheila said, coming in behind her husband. "And now you're bothering Kyle again, when are you gonna learn to leave him alone? He'll finish it when he finishes it! He has to concentrate on his classes right now if he's ever going to get accepted to college!"

"Oh yeah, he looks like he's studying real hard." Gerald said, gesturing to the calculus book that lay disheveled across the room. Her argument proved invalid, Sheila frowned and turned to Kyle.

"Just what do you think you were doing young man?" She demanded.

"Oh my God, _seriously_?" Kyle shouted back, finally breaking. He jumped off of his bed and picked up the book, slamming it down on his desk. "Happy? Can you get out of my room so I can get back to work?" But his parents had barely noticed his outburst, having resumed their shouting match at each other. "Fuck this." He picked up the textbook and shrugged on his backpack, leaving his parents behind in his room.

Once outside he pulled his phone out of his pocket to find a text from Stan. _**'Hey man, wanna do Mel's for dinner?'**_ Kyle let out a deep breath of air. Thank God for Stan. His best friend was the only person that could make him forget about all of the bullshit that he had to put up with at home. Best of all, Stan didn't press him for details and Kyle never wanted to discuss it. Talking about it only made it worse, and the last thing he wanted was for Stan's pity to get in the way of their friendship, which it most certainly would.

Kyle started typing a response when Stan's car pulled into his driveway. He smiled and opened the door. "Dude, I was just responding to you."

"I sent that text like twenty minutes ago. But I was hungry now so…" Kyle laughed. "Why were you outside?"

"Oh, just my parents were going at it again so I needed some air. You couldn't have had better timing." Stan nodded and put the car in reverse.

* * *

><p>"Could you turn that down?" Kenny yelled at Cartman over the radio. Cartman rolled his eyes and reached for the volume knob.<p>

"Aww, I'm sorry Ken, is it too loud for you?" He asked, exhaling smoke in the direction of his friends face. Kenny shook his head and took a drag from his own cigarette.

"Such a dick. What happened to the mornings when we would talk, huh? Or are you too good for that now?" He joked. Cartman laughed.

"Don't be such a fag Kenny. You know girls don't respond to that."

"Ha! Well if Justin Bieber can do it…" Kenny laughed, shaking his head. "Seriously though, when were you going to tell me that you're actually writing an article for the paper?" Cartman frowned.

"Why is everyone making such a big deal about this?" He demanded. Kenny raised an eyebrow.

"Who is 'everyone'?"

Cartman glared at Kenny. "Alright man, whatever. What about it?"

"Red writes the horoscope, right?"

Cartman thought for a moment. Come to think of it Red_ had_ been at the staff meetings… "Honestly, I have no idea dude." Cartman flicked the cigarette out of the window as he pulled into the school parking lot.

"What?" Kenny laughed. "How do you not know?"

"Kenny, I do not _care_ about the stupid school newspaper."

"So why exactly are you doing this again?" Cartman shut the engine off and stared at his steering wheel for a moment.

"Fuck off, Kenny." He said, getting out of the car and slamming his door shut.

"Dude…" Kenny groaned, running to catch up with his friend. "Cartman, come on man, don't be such a dick." Cartman pretended not to hear him and pulled his phone out of his pocket to find a text.

_**'Have any plans after the game? My parents are out of town.'**_ Cartman smiled as he read Diana's text.

"Dude, I'm sorry. The only reason I ask is…well…about Red…" Kenny continued. Cartman barely heard a word he said as he quickly typed a response back. "I don't know, we had a class together last year and we talked a little."

"Are you coming to the game tonight?" Cartman turned to ask.

"Well…yeah I was hoping to. I was thinking I would talk to Red after the game and depending on what you were doing I thought we could—"

"I have plans, sorry Kenny." Cartman said, grinning again as he read the response.

"C'mon Cartman, do you know how long it's been since I've been laid?" Kenny whined, leaning against Cartman's locker.

"I understand, and I feel for you man, I do. But the fact is, it's a matter of me getting laid or you." He said, holding his phone up for Kenny to see the new picture text he had received. Kenny's jaw dropped.

"Dude…"

"I know." Cartman glanced at the photo Diana had sent one more time before putting his phone back in his pocket. "So I can give you a ride to the game if you like Ken, but you're gonna need to find your own way back." He pushed Kenny away from his locker and opened it.

"I guess I could ask Stan…" Kenny mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Guess so." Cartman shoved a few things into his backpack and slammed his locker door shut. "See you later." He walked briskly towards his first period class and smiled upon seeing that Wendy was already in her seat, looking over her notes for another class. "Hey." He tossed his backpack on his desk causing her to jump slightly.

"Good morning, Cartman." She said.

"Listen, we need to have lunch together today." Wendy looked over at him.

"Why?"

"We're gonna take care of this camera bullshit during lunch. I have plans tonight and I can't hang out after school." Cartman said, scanning his phone for a new text message. Wendy sighed.

"Fine."

"Also, we need to have a serious discussion about why your boyfriend, who is the_ starting quarterback_, has not taught you, his girlfriend of…what is it now Wendy, two years?"

"And two months."

"And two months, about the game of American Football." Cartman finished, shaking his head at her in a disapproving manner. "For shame, Wendy. Do you not care about your boyfriend's activities?"

"I…we just…never talked about it."

Cartman frowned. "Well that's about to change. You can't possibly write a decent article about football if you don't even know how to play the game." He reached into his backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper. "So obviously you have two teams. This side is defense…" He began, drawing several circles that made no sense to Wendy. "Hey! Pay attention. And this is the offense, and there's your pussy boyfriend Stan…"

Wendy rolled her eyes, but turned her attention to Cartman's drawing and he continued his lecture, even as the bell rang.

* * *

><p>Satisfied with Wendy's ability to intelligibly discuss the basic rules of football after their crash course in first period, Cartman already felt the day a success. He even found himself looking forward to their lunch together. He managed to get in the lunch line early and was on his way to meet Wendy as everyone entered the cafeteria.<p>

"Cartman." He stopped in his tracks when he turned the corner to the library entrance to see Diana Chang standing outside the door.

"Oh hey." He said, trying to conceal his surprise.

"I was just going to lunch. Did you want to join me?" She asked, lowering her voice as she stepped closer.

"Oh…you know, I actually can't. I have lunch plans with a friend…" He said, his determination wavering as she unceremoniously took her free hand and grabbed for his crotch. "Whoa…hey there…" He felt himself grow immediately hard under her touch though he could barely feel her hand through his jeans.

"You sure?" Diana asked, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear. "Don't make me wait too long." She said, causing him to shiver as her warm breath sent a chill down his spine. Giving his crotch a short squeeze, she released him and sauntered down the hall towards the cafeteria. He exhaled sharply and watched her until she was out of sight.

"God _damn_…" He said aloud, pacing a bit, trying to walk it off before heading into the library. The last thing he needed was for to be around Wendy when he had a raging semi. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

After a few moments, he trudged into the library and set his food on the furthest table from the door. Wendy was nowhere in sight, so he sat down and started eating. He was nearly finished by the time she finally joined him, throwing her books down on the table in a huff.

"Well damn. What could have gotten you so worked up in the last few hours?" He asked through a large bite of pizza. "Started your period huh?"

Wendy frowned at him but just shook her head. "Just a long morning. Can we get this over with?" She picked up the camera, pressing the tiny 'on' button. "Oh, this is how you turn it on."

"I'm not retarded Wendy, I know how to turn it on." Cartman paused, then chuckled. "That's what she said."

"You are so stupid. Now look, this is the zoom—"

"Wendy, hold on, you're not seriously suggesting we do this here?" Cartman asked. Wendy looked around.

"Why? What's wrong with here?"

"Well it's boring for one. The only thing more boring than a book, is a picture of a book."

"No one's going to see these. They're just for practice." But Cartman was already pulling his backpack on.

"No need to waste the film. Come on." Cartman scooped up her discarded books in one arm and headed towards the door.

"It's digital, dumbass." Wendy called after him, earning her a stern look from the librarian. Cartman shushed her noisily from the door and motioned for her to follow him.

Wendy frowned. She was in_ no_ mood for one of his adventures today and was completely ready to blow him off completely when she realized that he had taken her books. No, that couldn't be right. Cartman never carried another girl's books. Sighing, she pulled her own backpack on again and followed him.

* * *

><p>Kenny sat on the bleachers by the football field casually smoking a cigarette. His lunch sat open on the seat in front of him, completely abandoned. Kenny rarely ate lunch these days, not when there was so much to think about.<p>

As the years passed, Kenny found himself maturing faster than his friends. He still loved Stan and Kyle, but his childhood innocence had been all but taken from him. The now classic saying "Great power comes with great responsibility" had the great misfortune of applying directly to him. Living in South Park with his…condition as he come to call it, had the effect of forcing him to grow up rather quickly.

He had long ago figured out that South Park, Colorado was a magnet for strange activity. Supernatural or otherwise, there was virtually nothing he hadn't experienced as the self-appointed vigilante protector that the small town still hadn't figured out that it needed. His 'Coon and Friends' days were a distant memory now—a childhood game that had proved to be only the beginning of what was to come.

At the time, nine year old Kenny had been terrified to discover the terrible truth about South Park. His deaths weren't the only things conveniently forgotten by its troubled citizens. Each strange incident—alien invasion, talking towels, the rise of ancient demons—had each in turn been forgotten by the citizens of South Park and the rest of the world without so much as even a newspaper article remaining. As he got older, the incidents continued ranging from fantastically dangerous to bordering on the inanely stupid, but he continued in his mission to keep his home town safe from whatever might be waiting to tear apart the world next.

In recent months however, he had been afforded a respite of sorts. It had been an unusually quiet summer and he hadn't donned his Mysterion persona since the previous Christmas when Cartman had accidentally temporarily turned supervillain (again) and had unleashed a killer Santa robot on the community. Kenny shook his head at the memory. Cartman had proved to be a handful over the years, but while he retained much of his snide obnoxious qualities (the occasional supervillain incidents included), something had changed in his friend and Kenny found that he actually relied quite a bit on his friendship. Not that he would ever say it out loud to anyone.

Not that anyone he told would remember anyway.

Kenny exhaled, sighing deeply as he considered the events of the past few weeks. He had the increasing suspicion that his "vacation" was about to come to an end. Something was different, and though he couldn't quite place it, it was enough to put him on edge.

His eyes wandered back to the football field where the cheerleaders were having a lunch time practice. He found watching their practice—watching_ her_ was the best distraction when he couldn't reconcile his nerves. Kenny sat up a little bit straighter, noticing her looking towards the bleachers. He felt an unfamiliar grip of terror possess him when she lifted her hand to wave. It was immediately followed by a wave of embarrassment. After everything that he'd witnessed in his short sixteen years, countless monsters, death, and destruction, he was frightened by a simple friendly gesture?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wendy heading onto the field. No wonder Red had been waving, he mused as he sunk back, feeling even more embarrassed. The feeling was short lived however when he saw that Cartman was following close behind Wendy.

"You gotta be kidding me…" He muttered as the pair made their way over to the cheerleading squad.

Cartman had long had a strained relationship with Wendy in spite of his enduring crush on her in elementary and middle school. Doubtless it was due to his inability to express his emotions any way other than negatively. Speaking of change…

Kenny watched them with raised eyebrows. He fully believed that Cartman_ had_ gotten over his crush on Wendy, having seen him at the worst of it, but something had changed there too. In fact, the whole dynamic of his group had changed in the last few weeks. Stan and Kyle were buddied up more than usual, though that was likely due to the extended separation the boys experienced every summer when Stan's family would go on a technology-free vacation.

Kenny had long worried about Wendy Testaburger's effect on Eric Cartman. There was something about her that challenged Cartman—more than just their verbal spats and Kenny was positive that was what drew Cartman to her. Even now Kenny could see through their body language that they were arguing about something.

Cartman had led Wendy away from the cheerleaders and was pointing towards the opposite end of the field. Wendy held a notebook and shifted her weight to her other hip, her irritation obvious from across the field.

"Cartman, I don't have time for your stupid sports metaphors!" Kenny said aloud, raising his voice to mimic Wendy when she started waving her free arm around.

"Shut up ho. Can't you see I'm just trying to tell you that I love you!" Kenny lowered his voice with Cartman's counter. "Now take off your pants and I'll show you what it_ really_ means to score a touch down!" Kenny laughed to himself, knowing that it was certainly a line that Cartman would use.

"Oh Cartman, you always know how to make a girl feel like a total prostitute." Kenny continued. He paused then, watching Cartman cross back to Wendy and stand looking over her should as she scribbled in her notebook. Kenny frowned slightly, noting their proximity was a lot closer than Wendy usually would allow. After a few moments, Wendy looked up and noticing their position instantly recoiled in the opposite direction and Kenny breathed a sigh of relief.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Wendy Testaburger had no interest whatsoever in Eric Cartman.

* * *

><p>Song: "The Look" by Metronomy<p>

AN: Sorry it took so long again! Now that it's back to school I hope to writing and updating far more often! I hope you guys like the addition of Kenny's Mysterion—I really do plan on making this more than the usual fluff piece. I want to keep it in canon as far as outrageous and supernatural shenanigans. Hopefully I'll do it justice.

ACompanyofSwans-thanks for your "nitpicky" comments! Keep them coming, it will make this fic all the better!


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